


Magically Inclined Scientific Minds

by beatlechicksteph



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatlechicksteph/pseuds/beatlechicksteph
Summary: There's a magical serial killer targeting muggles. In order to get ahead of it, Hermione Granger must team up with the BAU to catch the killer before he ignites a new war.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Spencer Reid
Comments: 36
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 2020 NaNoWriMo project. The fic will be complete in 16 chapters. I will try to update daily until complete.

Doctor Spencer Reid walked into the office of the BAU, and made a beeline for the bullpen. It was supposed to be his day off, which he planned to use to catch up on some reading and maybe go visit Maeve’s grave and leave some flowers. It had been nearly two years since he watched his girlfriend get killed right in front of him, and the hurt, while not as strong as the days following the incident, was still there. Especially as the anniversary neared. 

Getting called in on his day off was a typical event, and one that he was no usually upset by. He loved his work, and he would usually do it all with a smile on his face. However, today was one where he was ready to just stay in and be alone. 

Everyone was already in the room when he got there. He smiled at JJ before taking a seat next to Callahan. He looked toward the screens and frowned. Garcia wasn’t standing there. He looked around the room and noticed she was sitting at the table next to Morgan. The only person missing from the table was Hotch. He frowned. His message calling him in on his day off was from Hotch. Where was he?

Just as he was going to ask where he was, the door opened and Hotch walked in followed by a woman he didn’t recognize. She was short with dark hair pulled into a bun on the back of her head. She looked to be about his age, if not a tad older, and she was biting her lip, which meant she was nervous. His mouth ran dry when she made eye contact with him and gave him a small smile. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt his face flush as he looked away.

What was happening? He hadn’t felt this way since Maeve. It was too soon to be attracted to someone else. Wasn’t it?

Hotch and the mystery woman walked to the front of the room and stood near the monitors. 

“I’m sorry for having to call you all in on your day off,” Hotch began. “But when the state department calls and tells you you are needed, you don’t ask any questions. This is Hermione Granger. She is with MI6, and she comes to us with a serial killer who has crossed International Boarders. I’m going to let her explain what exactly we are dealing with.”

“Thank you Agent Hotchner,” Hermione said, before turning toward the rest of the group. “As Agent Hotchner said, I’m Agent Hermione Granger, and I’m with MI6. I am more of a paper pusher these days rather than a field agent, so please excuse me if I’m a bit rusty.” She turned and clicked on the screen, and it filled with the faces of maybe two dozen people. 

Spencer leaned forward in his seat. He scanned the faces of what he assumed to be victims trying to piece together any similarities between them. At first glance he couldn’t find any. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t some connection between them that didn’t come in a physical manner. 

“We are dealing with a serial killer who started his reign of terror in London and has currently moved to New York. He breaks into peoples homes and kills everyone inside. Police cannot figure out point of entry, nor cause of death. It’s as if he is a ghost, and as if they just gave up the will to live.” She clicked the next slide, and the bodies of the victims began scrolling through across the screen. “They only sign we have that these people were in fact murdered is that each one has been carved into antemortem. All with the same word. On each of their chests.”

Spencer frowned as he read the word carved into each victim. “Muggle? What does that mean?”

“It’s unclear at the moment. I think the only way we’ll be able to tell is once we catch the bastard.”

“Do you have any leads?” Rossi asked. “Besides the one where you learned your UNSUB moved from London to New York?”

“Unfortunately we do not. Local authorities are stumped, and desperate.”

“Do you know why the UNSUB moved countries?” JJ spoke up.

“We’re thinking he moved because of a job opportunity or a family obligation. We’re not quite sure.”

“You keep saying ‘he,’ what makes you think the UNSUB is a man?” 

“With the level of violence done to the victims, we’re assuming it’s a man.”

“Have you profiled maybe a team? I mean if he’s going in and killing everyone who lives in a house, there needs to be a way where he’s subduing the other victims while he tortures them one by one,” Spencer spoke up.

“We have. And there has been no indication either way.”

Everyone was quiet in the room as they took in the information as it had been presented to them. Spencer looked up and studied Hermione, trying to puzzle out what it was about her that he was finding attractive. With Maeve it was easy. They fell in love through letters and phone calls, he never even had to meet her in person to know he was attracted to her, in love with her. With Hermione, this brief interaction was giving him feeling reminiscent of those first letters with Maeve. That instant attraction. 

Hermione was beautiful, she held herself with a confidence that was common with women in her position of power, and she seemed like she was intelligent, but he didn’t have enough evidence yet to see how she measured up with himself. And then there was the accent. He didn’t like that he was so shallow, but that posh British accent was doing things to him that he was ashamed were happening at work.

“There you have it, our new case,” Hotch spoke up. “We’ll be heading to New York, wheels up in fifteen.”

Spencer stood up from the table and began gathering all of his stuff, his mind half on the case and half on the flowers he bought for Maeve’s grave. They were probably not going to last the case. He would need to purchase new ones when they returned.

“Dr. Reid?” 

He turned and found Hermione standing by him. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you would be willing to help with some of the research when we land in New York? I heard you’re very adept at reading quickly and retaining information, and I have brought several books that I think will prove useful, but I’m only one person.”

Spencer could feel his heart begin to race as he contemplated his answer. “Absolutely, I would be happy to.”

“Terrific,” she replied with a wide smile on her face. “I’ll see you in New York!”

“You’re not coming with us on the plane?”

“I have my own transportation. Ta.”

Spencer watched as she left the room, intrigued by the mystery that suddenly surrounded her. And he definitely didn’t watch her ass while she walked away.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione walked out of the building that housed the BAU and it wasn’t until she was around the corner and nearing the apparition point that she allowed herself to breathe. 

She just stood up in front of America’s leading mindhunters, people who could read you like a book, and lied. Lied through her teeth. Well, a lot of what she had said had some truth to it. They were hunting a serial killer. And they had reached a dead end. However, that was where a lot of the truth of what she had presented ended. 

They knew how the killer was getting into the houses. They were apparating in. And they knew how they were killing them: The Killing Curse. She also knew what the word Muggle meant. It was the fact that they were killing muggles that was the part that forced her into working with the muggle government to try and solve it. The killings were becoming too many, and across to many different jurisdicions in the UK and in America, it was becoming impossible to hide them and wipe the law enforcements memories. Whoever was doing this was not only trying to assert their dominance over the muggles, they were trying to out the Wizarding World.

So, the current minister for magic pulled she and Harry into his office and gave them a choice: one of them was going to go to America and help the muggles catch the rogue Death Eater, or Death Eaters, and there was really no choice. Which made sense. As head of the Aurors and Head of the whole MLE, they were the two most likely candidates, and the ones with the authority to reveal the existence of their world to a select few people. And also the skills to wipe their memories and replace them with more logical explanations to the crime they just solved. It was a very fine line. 

And one she was hoping to not have to cross with this group of people. They were far too logical to even believe for a second magic even existed. She was hoping they could build a profile without having to reveal the magic. However, she brought books that if she had them read in the right order it would systematically reveal aspects of her world in a way they would most likely believe.

And she had chosen Doctor Spencer Reid to be the one to reveal their world to. On paper, he was the perfect candidate. He was younger than the rest of the team, and also the one with the highest IQ. He was a prolific reader and had an idedic memory. He was the logical person to choose to read a mountain of books. She was also hoping his age would lend him to have an open mind and accept the reality o magic.

Then she met him. And she was starting to think fighting Harry for the chance to be the one on his case was probably the wrong idea. When she saw him sitting there with his floppy hair and his big, soulful eyes, she was lost. And all her resolve to focus on her job after her devastating break up went out the window. 

He spoke quickly, and almost monotonously, but she felt drawn to him. When he raised intelligent questions and looked at her with his puppy dog eyes, she began to second guess herself on choosing him to be the one she worked closely with. She had vowed to never date again. Ever. Again. She had just joked with Ginny before she left about being the cool aunt for life. 

And just one look from a cute a guy, and she was a puddle of goo. Maybe she should pick someone else to work closely with. Maybe that Rossi guy. He seemed smart, and like he would be willing to help her. She shook her head. She should just suck it up and just work with Dr. Reid. She was professional. She could work in the same room as an attractive man. She’s done so in the past. 

Except then she had been in a committed relationship. Off the market. There was no temptation.

She absentmindedly rubbed the back of her right ring finger, where she knew there was a faint white line. 

No, she needed to keep her head. Men were scum. Even cute ones with floppy hair and big brown eyes.

She finally made it to the apparition spot and turned on the spot. The next second she reappeared in the hotel room she was staying in in New York. She had opted for a room in Wizarding New York so she would have access to the Floo Network and Owl Post. She needed to be able to communicate with work back home. 

She sat down and slipped her shoes off before padding over and petting her cat. Crookshanks had passed away a few years ago, and as a consolation Harry had given her a new cat, whom she named Mittens due to the fact he looked like he looked like he was wearing mittens. Completely unoriginal, but she was still grieving her beloved half kneazle. 

When she sat down to write her brief for the day, Mittens hopped up on her lap, settling in as she wrote. The Minister and Harry wanted briefings every day. This would create a record in case a breach of the secrecy was brought against her. They wanted to cover all their bases. 

She stopped and frowned. She really hoped they were able to catch whoever was doing this. They had been certain they had caught all the former Death Eaters. At least all the big ones. So, who was going around and killing muggles? It just didn’t make any sense. 

The Minister was trying to keep the killings quiet in their world, there’s no need to cause a panic, he stated. However, with the way the UNSUB was escalating, they wouldn’t be able to keep it quiet for long. It was only a matter of time before news began to bleed from the muggle world into theirs. All it took was one muggleborn. One whisper of a mad man trying to create a blood war again. And then, who knew what their future would hold?


	3. Chapter 3

Spencer looked around the conference room he had been directed to drive straight to once they had landed in New York and been briefed on all the cases. He didn’t like that he was being separated from the team, they were all staying at a hotel closer to the precinct, he would be staying at this hotel closer to downtown. He had the feeling he often got when there was something happening he should be concerned about, but wasn’t quite sure what it was. 

The whole cab ride here he debated swallowing his ego and telling Hermione he just wouldn’t be enough and they would need to bring in Rossi. But by the time the cab pulled up to the hotel, and he saw the classic architecture and Hermione standing outside waiting for him, smiling, he decided he would risk being separated. He had suddenly grown greedy of the one on one time he was about to get with the cute British woman.

She had immediately lead him to the conference room, and he was in awe. The room was filled with books. There were easily hundreds. He could see why Hermione had chosen him to help her. 

“I know, it’s a lot of books. But I swear at least ninety percent should be useful in some way.”

Spencer laughed. “Ninety percent? What exactly are we looking for anyway?”

“Anything that could point us in the direction of the origins of the word ‘muggle,’ methods in which someone could kill another person without leaving evidence of cause of death, ways a person could enter and leave a residence without it appearing someone had ever been there.”

“Oh, so completely normal and easy things.”

“Exactly.”

Spencer moved around the table and picked up a couple books and glanced at the titles. They seemed to run the gamut of topics, there didn’t seem to be much connection between each one. “Do you have a method to this madness?”

“Believe it or not, I do.” She stood behind a pile of books. “I’ve spent the morning trying to sort through them all and I’ve set aside two piles. This one is yours.”

Spencer nodded. “Great. Should we start now?”

“Considering time is of the essence, it would make the most sense to start now.”

Spencer shook his head. Of course. That was the whole reason they were called in on their day off, and flown to New York as soon as possible. And why he was sent here rather than with the rest of the team to go question people who may have seen something and look at the crime scenes. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid question.”

She smiled. “There’s no such thing as a stupid question.”

He laughed. “Touche.”

He went around the table and as he moved around her, the space between her body and the wall was smaller than anticipated and he had to brush against her to get by. He shivered and closed his eyes. Once he felt composed he pulled out the chair, taking a seat. 

He looked up at Hermione and she wore a queer look on her face, he was about to ask her if something was wrong when she shook her head and moved to the side opposite him and took her seat. 

He pulled the first book off the top of the pile and began reading. 

Every once in a while he would glance up and see Hermione flipping through the pages of her own book, wondering if she had an eidetic memory as well, or if she was already familiar with these books, and she was looking for something specific. 

That feeling he had in the pit of his stomach returned. She was hiding something. Something big. But what? He lifted the book he was reading a little higher so if she glanced up it would look as if he were reading, when instead he was studying her. 

She didn’t seem suspicious on first glance, but she looked nervous. Very nervous. He watched her closely, and he could tell she wasn’t even reading the books, just flipping through them. Her eyes didn’t move across the page like they would if she had been reading. She was staring at the page and then glancing up at him before turning the page. She seemed to be studying him just as much as he was studying her. Why?

He narrowed his eyes and tried to follow her line of sight. It only made him more confused. She wasn’t staring at him, per say. She was glancing between him, the book in his hands and the books in the pile next to him. There was something about these books. Since she had already read the books, she knew there was something to find in them. She was testing him to see if he could find the same thing. 

He let out the breath he was holding. He needed to work his way through these books and see if he could find what she expected him to find. She knew something about the case. But she must be unsure of what she knew and needed a second opinion. But rather than tell him, she needed him to find it on his own. Otherwise it would just be confirmation bias. 

The sooner he figured out what he needed the fine, the sooner this pit would evaporate from his stomach. He didn’t like feeling suspicious, but he had been tricked and seriously injured one too many times in order to completely relax. 

He looked at her again and this time she was fully engrossed in what she was reading. Her bottom lip was held tight between her teeth, and he was feeling something completely different. Something he rarely felt when in the presence of a woman. Especially not since…

He shook his head and cleared it. He needed to concentrate. He needed to start working through these books and see what she needed him to see in them. Once he figured that out, maybe, maybe he could start to explore what he was feeling about her. Maybe once they case was closed they could go for a celebratory drink. That was something normal people did. And then once he was with her in a social setting he would realize she wasn’t his type, and beside she would be going home to England soon. Joining back up with MI6. And probably laughing with Prentiss about how she worked with her old team.

He frowned. Wait.

He set his book down and pulled his cell phone and shot off a text to Garcia. That niggling feeling was still there, and maybe if Garcia pulled everything about Hermione and sent it to him, he could relax.

He was tucking his cell phone away when she spoke up. “Did you find something?”

“Just checking in with the team.”

She smiled and went back to her reading. 

Hopefully Garcia would come back with something quickly. Just to put his mind at ease, and get rid of the feeling that maybe he was sitting in the room with the serial killer and he didn’t even know it.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione shut her book and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She was tired. So, so, tired. They had been in that conference room for hours, and she wasn’t any closer to figuring out who they had missed. She had transfigured all the files from just after the war when the MLE had gone on the hunt for Death Eaters, while she and Harry had finished up their seventh year before entering auror training, into books. 

There were a lot of files, and it seemed like most of the top level had been accounted for and they were either in Azkaban or dead. Some, like the Malfoys had taken a plee deal and ratted out several low-level Death Eaters and they, too, were in Azkaban. So, it just didn’t add up about who was making this statement. She looked down at her list and she just couldn’t figure out who was missing on it. Something didn’t add up. 

“Want to take a break?”

She looked over and saw Spencer watching her. He had been doing that throughout the time they were in the room together. She felt he didn’t think she noticed him watching, but she did. She could feel his eyes burning into her as he glanced up from his books. 

Not surprisingly, he hadn’t found anything magical yet. Which was also an indication he was doing more observing than reading. Which was fine. He had the right to feel suspicious of her. She wouldn’t hold that against him. She wasn’t being completely honest with him, and it was a gamble since he was a profiler. Of course he was going to notice that she had been lying to him. She just needed to get him to find what he needed to find before her cover was completely blown.

“Yes,” she answered. “I would love a break.”

“Want to take a walk and stretch our legs for a bit? I think I’m going a bit cross-eyed looking at all these books.”

“A walk sounds wonderful.”

They stood from the table and walked toward the exit of the hotel. They started down the street surrounded by the noise of the city, but not talking. Spencer kept looking down at his phone.

“Have you been working for MI6 for long?” Spencer finally spoke up.

“I was recruited before I had graduated. I’ve worked my up through the ranks, and now I’m one of the heads. I report directly to the Minister.”

“Wow, you’re so young to be ranking so high.”

“Youngest in generations to be where I am, first woman to hold the position. I’ve been told I’m well on my way to becoming the youngest Minister if my career keeps on its current trajectory.”

Spencer let out a low whistle. “Impressive.”

“I’m sure you have some impressive stories. I’m told you’re one of the youngest agents in the BAU.”

“Youngest recruit in history,” he answered proudly. “I graduated high school by the time I was twelve and then I earned three PhDs before I was brought on to work here.”

It was Hermione’s turn to let out a low whistle. “Impressive.”

They laughed. 

It felt good to laugh. There hadn’t been much to laugh about in her life lately. Between the serial killer and her disaster of a personal life. Everything seems to have just begun to feel very bleak in her life. Even though she was in the middle of a case, it was nice to relax and just get to know someone.

“It’s like kismet,” he said after a while.

“What is?”

“Us meeting. Two geniuses from two different countries.”

“Brought together by two dozen grizzly murders.”

Spencer grimaced. “Yeah. There is that.”

“Are you from the DC area originally?”

“Vegas, actually.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Vegas. Is it everything films and telly make it out to be?”

Spencer let out a breathy laugh. “Not exactly. It’s mostly desert and the casinos. The strip can get overwhelmingly crowded. It’s not as glamorous as Hollywood makes it out to be.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Are you from London originally?”

“I am. Born just outside in a little suburb. Lived there until I was eleven and then I went away to boarding school in Scotland.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine being so far away from home at such a young age.”

“You just said you went to University at twelve.”

“But it was a local college and I was living at home.”

“Being away from home was hard at first, and was really lonely for a while. I was picked on quite a bit before going away and I had hoped things would change once I had a new crop of kids, however, it took an extreme situation to get me my two best friends through school.”

Spencer was quiet next to her, and she wondered if she had said the wrong thing. “I had a pretty lonely childhood, too. I didn’t really have a lot of friends growing up, mostly because my peers were all so much older than me. It wasn’t until I started at the BAU I could really say I had friends.”

“How old were you by the time you started here?”

“Twenty-Four.”

Hermione couldn’t help herself. She reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. She found a kindred spirit in Dr. Spencer Reid. So much of what he was saying resonated deeply with her. The loneliness especially. Except it seemed his loneliness had been abated by joining the Behavioral Sciences Unit, hers was only exacerbated as she moved up the ranks of the MLE.

Spencer’s phone rang. “Reid. We’re just a block or two west on foot. You can’t miss us.” He hung up. “That was JJ. There was another murder, and they want us to come down to the crime scene.”

“Did they say why?”

“They didn’t.”

Hermione frowned. She didn’t go to crime scenes. Not anymore. Besides, this wasn’t her jurisdiction. 

A black SUV pulled up alongside them and they hopped in the back. The ride to the crime scene was peppered with information. Victims ages, sex. Three of them. Two males and a female. All roommates and students at NYU. Freshmen living off campus together. Same MO: no forced entry, no obvious cause of death, same carvings on the bodies. 

They pulled up to the apartment building and all climbed out. They took the stairs to the second floor. The crime scene tape made it obvious where the crime scene was. Spencer lifted the tape and allowed Hermione to enter before him. As soon as she entered, she knew exactly why they wanted her to come down. 

This was different from the other cases. The UNSUB had written something on the walls with the victims blood. 

As she read it she felt her knees start to give out from under her. Spencer’s hands came out and caught her under her arms, stopping her from going completely to the ground.

Granger, _sladkaya veshch_ , I’m back

Then things went black.


	5. Chapter 5

Spencer struggled under the weight of Hermione as she went limp, and was thankful when Morgan came over and helped her to the ground. 

“Well, Hotch, it’s safe to say she knows who is doing this.”

“Yes, that much is obvious. I wonder if the carving will now job something in her memory after seeing this writing on the wall.”

“Has she said anything in the last few hours you two have been researching?”

Spencer shook his head. “Nothing, however, I can tell she’s been holding something back. She’s not being entirely truthful. I’m having Garcia look into her background to see if there’s anything there we need to concern ourselves with.”

“Good idea, kid.”

“I’ll let you know if she finds anything. Other than just a gut feeling that everything isn’t as it appears, I’ve gotten nothing. If she’s keeping something from us, it is probably a stalker in her past based on the message on the wall.”

“But why leave a message now with victims twenty-five, six and seven?” Morgan asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe before now he wasn’t sure if Hermione was on the case,” JJ spoke up. “Maybe now that he’s aware she’s leading the investigation, he can now openly taunt her?”

“And the killings before were to just get her attention?” Hotch asked. “With the carvings?”

“The carvings must mean something to the two of them.”

“I haven’t found anything in the books Hermione pulled for us to use yet, but I know there’s something in them. And she needs me to find it, without any help from her. I think she knows what it is, but needs another person to see it on their own.”

“You and Hermione will go back and keep researching. As soon as she wakes up, we’ll get her tell us everything she knows about who this could be. And then JJ will take you both back to the hotel, and you can keep researching.” Hotch turned back to the words on the wall. “Now, that is most definitely Russian.”

“It means ‘sweet thing,’” Spencer spoke up. “Which is a diminutive term. He’s infantilizing her. So he must be older.”

“He’s supposed to be dead.”

He looked down at his feet where Hermione was lying. He immediately crouched down and helped her up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I never suspected him because witnesses told law enforcement that he died in 1998. He’s supposed to be dead. This is impossible.”

“Can you give us a name? Maybe we can find some known associates. Maybe this is a copycat, and he really is dead.”

Hermione was quiet, and she just stared off into the distance, her hand rubbing her chest absently. “Antonin Dolohov. He was a domestic terrorist in the mid to late nineties.”

“What’s his connection to you? You had to only be a kid,” Hotch said.

“My friends and I got in a lot of trouble in school, or trouble found us rather. My best friend thought his Godfather was in trouble, so we snuck into a government building to rescue him. It was a trap that we walked into. Dolohov gave me this that night.” She unbuttoned the top couple buttons on her blouse revealing a deep scar that ran down her chest. 

“How old were you?” Morgan asked.

“Fifteen.”

“None of the victims have been teenagers though. They’ve all been young adults.”

Hermione swallowed and looked away. When she looked back, her eyes were filled with tears. “The last time I encountered Dolohov, we were the ages of these victims. He and another member of his gang tried to grab my friends and I from a coffee shop. We were able to subdue them. We were seventeen and eighteen years old. I was told he was dead shortly after that.”

“And you didn’t verify?” Hotch asked. 

Hermione shrugged. “I was eighteen years old. And another member of the gang had just captured me and tortured me. I didn’t exactly question it during my recovery,” she snapped. 

Spencer took a step closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Fuck. He didn’t usually curse, but that’s the only thing he could think of. The memories that this was dragging forward were probably painful. To go through what she went through as a kid, and be as successful in her career as she was now, was tantamount to the type of woman she was. And he felt himself falling for her just a little bit more. 

“Hey,” he said. “Let’s go back to the hotel, and I’ll keep reading and try to find what you need me to find, and you can go lie down.”

Hermione turned and looked at him, giving him a wavering smile. She nodded. 

“Let me give you a ride back,” JJ said. “I need to head back in that direction anyway.”

Spencer shook his head. “We’re only a few blocks away, we can walk. I think it will be good for Hermione to get some fresh air and clear her head.”

“Good idea, and Spence?” 

“Yeah, Hotch?”

“Let me know what you find out.”

Spencer knew he was talking about more than just about the case. “Will do.”

He put his hand on the small of Hermione’s back, leading her out of the apartment and then the building. Neither one of them spoke until they were on the sidewalk and about halfway back to their hotel.

“If you want to talk about anything, you know—”

“I need you to keep reading, Spencer. Do you understand? Keep. Reading.”

She didn’t say anything after that. She didn’t need to. Spencer understood clearly. She couldn’t tell him whatever it was she needed him to know, instead he had to find it on his own. And seeing that scar on her chest and hearing that she had been tortured only made him more determined to find whatever it was she needed him to find. He already lost someone to a crazed stalker. He wasn’t about to lose someone else. 

He reached over and took her hand. It was a bold move for him. It was more like something Morgan would do. He was more of a let’s get to know each other through words sort of man. But he wanted to touch her. To have some sort of intimacy with her. Maybe it was the stalker situation. Maybe it was all the regrets he had about Maeve. Whatever it was, it made him not want to make any of the same mistakes again. He knew that time was short. And if the only time he got with Hermione was the time they were here, in New York, he wasn’t going to squander it. 

His heart sang when she laced her fingers with his, and moved closer so their arms were just barely touching. And then they walked slowly, hand in hand back to the hotel.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione woke with a start, drenched in sweat. It had been a while since she had had nightmares from the war. However, learning that Dolohov was not dead seemed to dredge it all up. And boy did it suck.

She ran her hands down her face and stood from the bed. She glanced at the clock and realized she had been asleep for almost two hours. She grabbed her wand and freshened up her clothes and her hair before tucking it back into the holster up the sleeve of her long sleeve blouse. She took a deep breath and left the room and made her way back to the conference room where Spencer was. 

She opened the door just as she heard him finishing up a phone call. When she walked in, his door was to the door. As he turned around she started to smile in greeting. But when he turned to face her, he didn’t smile back. He looked downright grim. 

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t work for MI6.”

She froze. “Wha—”

“In fact, there’s no record of you anywhere after your eleventh birthday,” he continued. “Which seems impossible, considering the way technology has advanced. You don’t have a bank account, you don’t have tax records, no property, no school records. Nothing.”

“Spencer, there is a logical explanation to all of this, I just need yo-”

“No. No.” He took a step back from her. “You lied to me. To all of us.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. “I haven’t. I really haven’t.”

“Our tech person is the best in the world. And she couldn’t find you. Who are you really?”

“I’m Hermione Granger.” Her voice cracked. 

Spencer closed his eyes and looked away, when he looked back toward her, his eyes were filled with tears of his own. “I don’t believe you. Has everything you’ve said been a lie?”

She shook her head. “I’ve told you versions of the truth. But I can’t tell you everything. Not yet. I need you to keep reading.”

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Because, there are rules. There are rules and laws and I can’t just tell you. You need to stumble upon it accidentally.”

“What rules? What laws? What sort of group are you in? Are you in some sort of trouble? Witness protection? Oh my god, it’s witness protection, that’s why there’s no record of you after you turned eleven, and why you have nothing in your name.”

She shook her head. “I’m not in witness protection.”

“Then what is it? Because right now I don’t trust you, and since I can’t trust you, I don’t want to stay here alone with you.”

“Please, you have to stay, I need your help.”

“Then tell me who you really are.”

“I can’t. I told you you need to keep. Reading.”

He gestured wildly at the piles of books. “How many? You obviously know which book I need. How many are you going to make me read before I can know the real answer?”

Hermione growled, and ran her fingers through her hair. Would they really know if she pointed him in the right direction? Does it even matter at this point now that her cover was blown? She walked over to the pile of books in front of him and pulled the book that was next from his pile. She walked over to him and pressed the book against his chest. She looked up at him, pleading him with her eyes. “Read this book.” It was the one McGonagall had left her and her parents when they had told her she was a witch. “Read this. And then come find me in my room. Please.”

They stood there, toe to toe, nearly chest to chest, staring in each others eyes. She was trying to convey to him that he could trust her. That he could believe her. 

He nodded slowly.

She smiled at him softly. And then turned and left the room. When she made it to her room, she shut the door, and slid to the floor. Only then, did she allow herself to cry.

Spencer looked at the door where Hermione had just exited. He closed his eyes and willed the image of her emotion filled face to leave him. She was genuinely upset that he had found her out. And she seemed to be not lying when she told him she couldn’t tell him what she was keeping from him. 

When he got the call from Garcia that there was no record of Hermione anywhere, he could feel his heart breaking. After their day today, he felt unreasonably close to this woman. Which was preposterous. There was no such thing as love at first sight. It was impossible to feel so strongly about someone after barely knowing them. 

He just needed to cut and run. Go to the team, tell them what he found out. And they can deliver a profile where Hermione was involved in the murders somehow. Except, she wasn’t. She wasn’t involved, she was just as much a victim as the people the UNSUB was murdering. Her reaction to the crime scene earlier was hard to fake.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the book she had shoved into his chest. He frowned at the title. Hogwarts a History. That raised more questions than answered them. He pulled out the chair at the table and sat down, opening the book to the first page.


	7. Chapter 7

Spencer put the book down and stared into space. It hadn’t taken long for him to read the book from cover to cover and he had a hard time deciding if what he just read was fantasy or reality. Everything about the way it was written screamed reality. However, logically, there was no way this could be real. The implications…

But there it was: the use of the word muggle. Ways to come and go from a building without indicating a way in or out. Killing without leaving a distinguishable cause of death. All in the book. All what was happening with this case. There was a chapter at the end of the book about a recent war. And Hermione was hailed as a hero. 

Pieces began to fall into place. Why Hermione couldn’t be found through technology. She lived off the grid. At least the regular human grid. 

He ran his hands down his face. He needed to talk to her.

He picked up the book and carried it with him while he took the stairs two at a time. He got to her room and knocked with a sense of urgency. 

The door flung open and Hermione answered. She looked like she had been crying. Guilt ripped through his stomach. He did this to her. He yelled. He accused. 

He held up the book. “Is this true?”

“Come inside.”

He entered her room, feeling a little awkward being in her room. It felt intimate in a way being in his colleagues rooms had never felt before. He looked around and saw there was a single bed and a fireplace with two chairs sitting in front of it. And a cat curled up on the rug.

“You brought a cat.”

“Yes, I didn’t want to leave him alone or burden a friend with caring for him while I was away, so he traveled with me.”

He walked over and took a seat in one of the chairs. He didn’t want to have this conversation standing up. He towered over her by nearly a foot, he didn’t want to seem intimidating. And the only other place to sit in the room was the bed, and he felt that would be crossing a line. 

Hermione took his cue and came to join him next to the fire. Once she was settled, he held the book up. “Is what I read true?”

She nodded. 

“So you’re the Hermione discussed in this book?”

She nodded again. 

“So, you’re a…witch?”

She nodded. 

“But witches are things of myths and fairy tales. There’s no such thing as magic.”

Hermione flicked her right arm, and a stick fell into her hand. She lifted it and flicked and a book came flying across the room and into Hermione’s waiting hand. 

Spencer nearly dropped the book he was holding. “This is scientifically impossible.”

Hermione just looked at him. 

“So according to your book, you’re born like this, with these powers. Is it some sort of genetic anomaly? Has anyone studied your blood? Maybe I can take a sample—”

“No,” Hermione interrupted. “No one else can know about me, about magic, about our world.”

“The Statute of Secrecy.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s why you had to tell all the lies. You had to reframe everything. But if you can’t tell anyone, why team up with the BAU? We are trained to read people. To figure out lies.”

“Because we’re desperate. Or we were rather, before we could get a name. And, too many Muggle jurisdictions were involved with the murders. We had to actively insert ourselves into the investigation before more people got hurt.”

“Why did you reveal yourself to me? Is it because I figured out your lies?”

She shook her head. “The plan was always to reveal ourselves to you. I just couldn’t outright tell you I was a witch without triggering the secrecy laws. However, since you stumbled upon our world on your own, you’re allowed to know about our world, for now.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean for now?” And then it hit him. “No. You’re not going to be performing any sort of mind magic on me. I refuse to give you permission to mess with my mind.”

Hermione looked sad. “It’s perfectly safe. We can’t allow Muggles to know about our world. You have known about me for less than half an hour and you already leapt to blood tests and studying my DNA. And you’re a decent person. Can you imagine if a more sinister person got their hands on this information what they would do to us?”

“You’ve got a point. But, if no one else can know, how are we going to catch Dolohov? If we’re going to use the team, we’re going to need to profile for a wizard.”

“I was hoping we would be able to work together to help lead the team in the right direction without having to reveal my status. We could use the books downstairs to—”

“Hermione, since Garcia already knows you are not working at MI6, I can almost guarantee she’s shared that information with Morgan, who then probably went right to Hotch. The whole team is probably currently suspicious of you and trying to find any way they can link you to the murders. We need to come clean with them about what is happening. Believe me, it will be a lot easier to close this case and catch Dolohov, or his copycat, if everyone is working with the same information.”

“But the Statute of Secrecy—”

“Only technically applies to you. I can still go and tell my team what I know. And if it comes from me, they are more likely to believe it. They trust me, and they know if I believe something as outrageous as this, it must be true.”

Hermione bit her lip and looked away. Spencer diverted his glance as soon as he found himself checking her out again. He chastised himself for losing track of what was important. If there ever was a reason to not get involved with her, being of a completely different species of human could easily rank high up there. He looked back at her and almost got lost in her chocolate eyes as he met them. She quickly looked away, and he could see her cheeks coloring at being caught looking at him. 

Could the attraction be mutual?

Before he could contemplate on that anymore, she spoke up. “Fine. But I want to be there when you reveal it to the team. I want to be able to defend myself.”

“Deal. What time is it?”

“Tempus,” she waved her wand and the time appeared, floating in the air. “Late.”

“Let’s get some rest tonight, and then we can regroup with the team in the morning. We can determine where we go from there.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They stood and walked toward the door. Spencer’s hand had just touched the handle when she spoke up again. 

“Do you really think it could be a copycat?”

Spencer turned around and leaned his back against the door. “It seems highly likely. If it’s widely known he died during the war, then there isn’t any reason to suspect he didn’t. You are a very high profile figure in your world. If the killer is trying to restart some sort of blood war again, and he knew you were working on the case to catch him, it would make sense he would invoke someone he knew would spark some sort of emotional reaction in you to throw you off of his scent. And if the person was a Death Eater, or associated with them, in the late-nineties, he would know of your interactions with Dolohov. So they could easily use that to try and get you off the case.”

“And if it’s not a copycat?”

Spencer looked at the woman before him. The one who awed him with her command of the room and how she held herself with such authority when they first met. The one who he just learned lost her childhood to a war. The one who was standing before him now, looking so very vulnerable, worried that the man who tormented her in her youth had returned. He took a step forward and drew her into his arms, embracing her. He felt her arms wrap around him, returning the hug. “I will do everything in my power to make sure you are safe. I promise.”

They stood there in one another’s arms for much longer than was probably necessary, but Spencer never wanted to let her go. And the entire time he held her, all he could think was he hoped he could keep his promise this time.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione sat nervously in the chair in the back of the conference room at the New York FBI headquarters, where the team was currently set up. She had barely slept the night before worried about how today would go. 

On the drive over Spencer had reassured her everything would be fine. His team would not shun her or try and capture her to do science experiments on. But that wasn’t really what she was worried about. She was pretty sure the logical BAU would have no problem believing her, especially with Spencer being the one delivering the news. No, what she was truly worried about was her world. 

She was going to get in trouble for telling this whole department of the Muggle FBI about the Wizarding World. That was a fact. But how much trouble was still yet to be seen. Slap on the wrist? Completely derailing her hard earned career? Somewhere in the middle? What if she got fired? Her relationship fell apart because of her commitment to her job. Would she have sacrificed everything for nothing?

She glanced over at Spencer, who was sitting next to her, holding her hand. Her heart filled with warmth when she saw him. Maybe losing her relationship wasn’t for nothing. Maybe it was so she could find this new opportunity for love. Maybe she could switch careers if she got in too much trouble for this strategic move. 

And now she was getting ahead of herself. Twenty-Four Hours. That’s how long she has known Dr. Spencer Reid. And here she was planning to uproot her life for him. What was wrong with her?

She felt him squeeze her hand and she looked up at him, and he gave her a reassuring smile. 

“It’s okay to be nervous.”

“You must be an amazing boyfriend, you can read people so well.”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve only really ever had one chance at being a boyfriend. And—”

He was cut off when the team began filing into the room. Her foot began bouncing up and down.

Once everyone was in the room, Spencer squeezed her hand one more time before standing and making his way to the front of the room. She folded her arms across her chest, and hugged herself. 

“So, you all may be wondering why I called this meeting this morning.”

“I have a feeling I know why,” Morgan said, turning around to glance at Hermione. She winced. Spencer was right. Everyone knew she wasn’t who she said she was.

“Well, yes, I figured Garcia had already talked to all of you.”

“So, who is she really? Witness protection?” 

She let out a sigh. So that’s how it was going to be? They were just going to talk about her as if she wasn’t even in the room?

“No, not witness protection. And before you guys just start peppering me with questions, I ask that you just sit here, and listen before asking anything. Hear me out, and then I’ll open it up for questions at the end.”

Spencer picked up the clicker on the table and opened up a presentation. When did he have time to do this? Did he even sleep last night? 

Hermione stared at him in awe as he moved through the history of the Wizarding World in front of her. As far as she knew, he had only read the book once. But he was moving through everything with ease. He was explaining what a muggle was. Muggleborns. Goblins. Werewolves. Everything. 

He moved into the last war with Voldemort. And explained her role. Her fame. Her notoriety. How she lived in the Wizarding World and banked at a Wizard Bank, and didn’t use technology, and that was why Garcia couldn’t find anything about her. 

Finally he explained the Statute of Secrecy, the whole reason she had to come in with a fabrication of who she was and how she didn’t know anything about the word or the killing method. And how it was important that none of this leave the group. They were the only ones who should know about the magic. That they were looking for a wizard, not a regular human being. 

“Does anyone have any questions?”

“So many,” JJ said. 

“I don’t even know where to begin with my questions,” Hotch spoke up.

“I do,” Rossi began. “Magic is real? I’m sorry, Reid, but that’s a bit far fetched. How long did you two stay up concocting this story? And how terrible is the truth if this is what you two came up with?”

Spencer opened his mouth to defend them, but Hermione decided now the proverbial cat was out of the bag. She flicked her wrist and her wand dropped into her hand. She stood up and walked toward the front of the room. She stood next to Spencer and pointed her wand at the empty glass in front of him. “Aguamenti.” She watched as her wand filled the cup. She then wordlessly levitated the cup to in front of Rossi. 

He looked up at her, unimpressed. “I’ve seen better in Vegas.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She pointed to the conference room door, flicked her wand and opened the door, and then immediately slammed it. And then she walked over to the glass she had moved in front of Rossi and slid it to the floor. And then immediately pointed her wand to it. “Reparo.” She felt satisfied when everyone was beginning to look impressed. And for added measure, she threw some bluebell flames in the newly repared glass.

“So, do you believe her yet?” Spencer asked. “I only had to see her do one spell before I believed her. She’s just done half a dozen.”

“So, this secrecy law, prevents you from revealing yourself to the rest of the world?” JJ asked. 

“It protects us from the rest of the world. After the witch hunts of the seventeenth century…”

“And the fact that my first instinct once I found out her being a witch was a genetic anomaly was to ask if I could draw blood and run some tests,” Spencer cut in.

“Our world decided it was safer to hide away from the muggle world. And we basically hide in plain sight. You could be friends with a wizard and not even know it.”

“If you’re not allowed to tell non-magical people about yourselves, why come to the BAU for help on this case? You have your own law enforcement and prison,” Kate spoke up.

“Because the killer has been acting in the Muggle world,” she explained. “The killer has moved between jurisdictions, killing only muggles, ensuring too many people know about the deaths. It would be easy for aurors to come on the scene and take over an investigation and wipe the memories of the responding officers. However, by the time the coroners come in, and the bodies are sent away for processing and autopsies, and CSIs come in and process the scene, the number of people involved grows. We have people whose job is to specifically look for crimes against muggles, however, this UNSUB was doing the carving so discretely it was never noticed right away, until it was too late for us to intervene. 

“Before this last murder, we had no idea where to start. The Minister for Magic called myself and my best friend, the head of the aurors, in and ordered one of us to come here and work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit in order to get a profile so we could narrow our list of suspects. Now, we know it’s either Dolohov or a copycat.”

Hotch leaned forward in his seat. “Now, this Dolohov, he’s been presumed dead for almost twenty years, correct?”

“Correct. I have a list of all known Death Eaters and their last known locations with me back at the hotel. We were told that he was killed during the final battle.”

“If magic is supposed to be a secret, where do you see the BAU coming in? Other than giving a profile.”

“That’s the tricky part. Since Dolohov has been missing from the magic world for the last nearly twenty years, we have to assume he’s been living in the muggle world. We need to figure out what aliases he’s been using. What he’s been doing all these years.”

“Basically we need to work this case as if magic weren’t involved,” Rossi recapped. 

“Exactly. The most important thing is once you find him, don’t confront him. Call me, and I will call in the aurors. He won’t have a gun or a knife, he’ll have a wand, and he can kill with one flick, much faster than you can pull a trigger.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. 

“And remember, this could very well be a copycat. We need to cover all our bases,” Spencer spoke up. “He could be using Hermione’s notoriety and ties to Dolohov to try and throw us off his scent. Get us looking in a different direction.”

“Reid, you and Granger go back to the hotel. I want you to look through that list Granger has of former Death Eaters. See if you can find something she has missed. Rossi, you and Callahan go back to the most recent crime scene. I want you to question neighbors, see if they saw anything or anyone suspicious. The rest of us will work with Garcia, and we’ll try and find Dolohov’s muggle ties,” Hotch ordered. 

Everyone gathered what they brought in and began to stand, when Hotch spoke up again. “And it goes without saying, Granger’s secret remains between us.”

Everyone murmured their agreement before going their separate ways.

On the drive back to the hotel, Hermione didn’t know what to say. The meeting went so much better than she had anticipated. Except for a minor bought of doubt, which was to be expected from people with such logical and scientific minds, everyone seemed to accept the reality of magic and move forward. For the first time since the muggle bodies had begun to materialize, Hermione felt good about their prospects of catching the bastard committing them.


	9. Chapter 9

They were back in the hotel in the conference room but this time instead of reading books that were supposed to lead him toward discovering magic, they were going through all the files she had on Antonin Dolohov and the other Death Eaters. He didn’t understand a lot of what he was reading, but on a basic level he knew what was going on. People were all the same whether they were magical or not. Evil was evil.

Antonin Dolohov was an evil bastard. Not as evil as his leader, but evil nonetheless. The amount of people they think he had tortured was insane. He couldn’t fathom coming across someone like him in their world. And over the years he had encountered some terrible people. 

He looked over to Hermione. She was working on her reports and writing back and forth with someone in the American ministry of magic. They were trying to figure out if anyone fitting Dolohov’s description had frequented the magical villages around the New York area. It was a long shot, but they felt it was at least one way to narrow down whether or not this could be Dolohov or an associate. 

And the more Spencer read about Dolohov, he hoped it was an associate. This bastard deserved to die in battle for the atrocities he had committed in the seventies, eighties and nineties. 

Reid closed the file and rubbed his hands down his face before looking again at Hermione. She had given up all pretense at being a muggle in front of him and she was scrawling furiously across parchment using a literal quill. He smiled as she reached up to push a stray hair out of her face, leaving a streak of ink across her forehead. His smile quickly turned to a frown when he noticed the thin white line around her ring finger. Was she married? 

“How long have you been married?”

Hermione started. “What?”

“How long have you been married?”

He didn’t mean to sound harsh. It was just he had been flirting with her the last day and a half, and he thought she was flirting back, and this whole time, she’s had a husband. He did not want to be the other man. 

“I’m not married. Not anymore.” She sounded sad, and she wouldn’t meet his eye. “I married young, and we had been married for nearly fifteen years. Eight months ago I caught him fucking some random woman in our bed. Turns out, he had been cheating on me for most of our marriage. I just had no idea because I was so busy working. We had been trying to have a baby and it wasn’t working out. I thought maybe it was because of the torture I went through during the war. Turns out he had been casting a contraception charm without telling me. 

“After I caught him, he said some pretty terrible things about me. And I left. It is usually pretty impossible to get a divorce in the Wizarding World, they’re pretty backwards, but my best friend helped me get one. We had enough damning evidence. Turns out the cheating wasn’t what did it. It was him deliberately denying me a baby. My ex’s parting words to me were about how he hoped I enjoyed being alone as no man would ever want me because I’m too ambitious in my career. I told him where he could shove that, and I haven’t seen him since.”

“What an ass,” Spencer said. “Many men like women who are successful. I can point you to a whole room of them. I think he was just insecure with himself and so he lashed out at you since he knew you were too good for him.”

Hermione smiled. “You know nothing about him, and you’ve profiled him almost exactly. Tell me, Dr. Reid, have you ever been in love?”

Spencer could feel his chest tighten. He’d never talked about Maeve to anyone outside of the team before. He didn’t think he would be able to talk about her. Until he was. “Two years ago I met an amazing woman. We began corresponding through letters and then through telephone calls. We never met in person, because she had a stalker. She was a geneticist and probably one of the smartest people I have ever known. We dated for ten months. I’m pretty sure she was my one great love.”

“You keep talking about her in the past tense. What happened?”

“Her stalker found her,” his voice broke. “And I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t fast enough. She was killed right in front of me.”

The chair scraped the floor as she pushed back. Before he had time to react, her arms were around his waist and she was pulling him in toward her. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her body and then bury his face into her hair. The pain of remembering Maeve wasn’t as sharp as it usually was. Having Hermione there, to comfort him eased some of the pain, he really truly felt like he would be able to heal from this. Or maybe he already had.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. Here I am rambling on about my idiot ex-husband who just treated so poorly I’ve basically sworn off dating, and you’ve experienced real tragedy. No one should have to experience what you have. I can’t even imagine…”

She trailed off, her embrace tightening around him. She felt her bury his face against his chest. And there, in the middle of the room, he felt himself talking more. “I want to be able to protect you from Dolohov, if this is even him, but I’m worried that I won’t be able to. That I’ll fail, like I did with Maeve, that you’ll—”

Hermione pulled back and placed a single finger on his lips, silencing him. “Shh. I don’t need you to worry about me. I’m trained, boy am I trained, to go against the likes of Dolohov. In fact, remember what I told your team? I’m the most qualified person here to do so. If anyone should be worried about protecting anyone from Dolohov, it should be me protecting you and the rest of your team. If you want to be helpful, keep being here with me. Help me research, help me figure out who our UNSUB is. Keep me distracted so I don’t spiral. Because I’m going to tell you, since you trusted me with your tragic past, the Dolohov development has drudged up so many things, I’ve begun having nightmares again at night. And whenever I close my eyes, I see him here. Or I see the other Death Eaters. The one who tortured me. The one who was excited at the prospect of raping me. The one who wanted to kill me. They’re all there, taunting me, proving that even though it’s been nearly twenty years, they’ll always be here, taunting me.”

Spencer brought a hand up and cupped her cheek, using his thumb to brush the tears that had fallen away. She looked down into her chocolate eyes, and that’s when it hit him. She was the one. The One. He didn’t know how, but it was if looking into her eyes, he could see the future. The one with the two of them, together. 

His gut instinct was to brush this revelation off. Scientifically impossible to know these things. And it was improbable he would be capable of having any sort of long term relationship. Just look at this parents. And he carried a lot of baggage. The team had an erratic schedule. Dating him would be nearly impossible. She would grow frustrated with him just like everyone else’s significant others did on the team. 

However, even with all of this logic surrounding, telling him this was not what he thought it was. That this was just a crush. Like when he had a crush on JJ. Except, he knew deep down, this wasnt a test. This was an invitation. An invitation to move forward in his life. To take a chance. He was never a gambler or a risk taker, so it didn’t really make that much sense to him when he thought back on what he did next why he did it. 

He gently moved her finger away from his lips, and leaned forward slowly, giving her ample time to reject him. When she didn’t, he kept moving forward until their lips touched in a soft kiss. 

And then, she kissed him back.


	10. Chapter 10

The kiss was magic. 

No other kiss compared to the one she was sharing right now with Dr. Spencer Reid. 

She pulled back and looked at the man whose arms she was in. She needed to make sure he was okay with what he had just done. She had her heart broken by a man who was still alive. He had watched the love of his life get murdered in front of him. Was two years enough to get over something like that? Do you ever get over something like that?

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m great actually.”

She smiled. “Good.”

He gave her a bright smile, and then leaned in to kiss her again. She gladly reciprocated. The second time was even better than the first time. 

When they pulled apart again, Spencer rested his head against her forehead, and they just stood there, breathing heavily. Hermione refused to open her eyes, and let reality come back in. That she was only there until they caught the UNSUB. And then she was back to London and her job, and his job was here. Even with magical transportation, would they be able to make long distance work? Or is this a fling that would be over once the case was solved?

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Spencer whispered against her skin. “Can we not worry about the logistics of whatever this is for while, and enjoy what this is now? Because for the first time in two years I feel like the future I envisioned for myself is within reach, and I don’t want to ruin it just yet with the complications our situation presents.”

“Okay,” she whispered back. “I’ll stop trying to solve all the problems. I’ll just enjoy whatever this is right now.”

“Good.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, pulling her tightly against his body.

She ran her hands up his body until she could sink her fingers into his hair, something she had been longing to do ever since she met him. His hair was soft and everything she had hoped it would be. Spencer let out a delicious sound as she ran her fingers across his scalp, massaging him. He deepened the kiss, and let his hands roam a little, sliding down her back to grip her ass. She moaned.

She pulled back to take a breath, and he began trailing hot kisses down the side of her neck, which were doing everything for her. She wanted him. Bad. “Want to go up to my room?”

He froze. 

A pit grew in her stomach. Every doubt she had after the vitriol Ron spewed at her prior to their divorce began spiraling through her. She pulled away, putting distance between the two of them, folding her arms around herself. She looked at the ground, willing the tears that were threatening to fall to stay put. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just,” he paused to swallow and catch his breath. “I barely know you, and while I feel this intense attraction, and kissing you is really, really good, I don’t want to jump that far. Not yet.”

“Are you a—”

“No!” he practically yelled. “No, I’m not. I had some fun in college. But it’s just, I can’t really explain it.” He sighed. “I like you. A lot. And I’m very, very attracted to you. And I want to go back to your room. Very much. But, remember how I said I just want to focus on the now, and not worry about what will happen later? If we sleep together, I worry that’s all I’ll think about. I’ll want to figure out the logistics. I’ll want answers to the hundreds of questions floating through my head.”

Hermione nodded. “That makes sense.”

“But don’t think it’s because I don’t want to. Because I very much do. It’s nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me.”

She nodded again.

“Your ex, he said some things that have really stuck with you, didn’t he? When you broke up?”

“Yeah he did.”

“Well, I’m almost one hundred percent certain whatever he said, he’s wrong.”

Hermione scoffed.

“No,” Spencer said, closing the gap between them. “Don’t think down on yourself. You’re beautiful, you’re brilliant, and you’re incredibly sexy.” He pressed closer to her until his body was flush with hers, and she could feel the evidence of how sexy he found her. “I just want to know you more than twenty-four hours before we jump into bed with each other. What I’m feeling for you is so intense. I want to pump the brakes just a little bit, and get to know you a little bit more. I hope I’m making sense and I’m not just rambling. Because I feel like I’m rambling.”

Hermione gave him a smile. “You’re rambling, but it’s okay. Thank you for being honest. Thank you for telling me all of this. And you’re right. We have only known each other twenty-four hours. I am very attracted to you. Have been since I first saw you. You’ve really weakened my resolve to never date again. And I want nothing more than to fall into bed with you. But I’ll wait. All good things are worth waiting for.”

Spencer smiled down at her, and all her doubts immediately washed away. She may not have been a profiler who could read someone the way Spencer could, but she could tell he was telling her the truth. That she was not the problem. That he wanted her, just as much as she wanted him. It was refreshing. It was exhilarating. She stood on her tip toes and kissed him again. Kissing him was addicting. 

He returned her kiss, but this time, the passion was higher. More intense. She gasped when he pulled her closer, his erection pushing into her belly, making her throb with need. She pressed against him, trying to get some much needed friction. He pushed her back until she felt the back of her legs hit the edge of the table. He quickly helped her jump up so she was sitting on the edge. She opened her legs and he stepped in. As soon as they made contact, they both groaned. 

He moved against her, causing her to feel lightheaded. They were both in thin dress pants, allowing them to feel everything. She broke off the kiss, unable to breathe. She panted as he drew hot kisses down her throat. When he brought a hand up to cup her breast, she was lost. 

“Spencer!”

Her world exploded and she cried out. She could tell he was getting closer as his movement became erratic against her. He cried out and held her tight to her, as he caught is breath. 

“Wow,” she said breathlessly.

“Yeah, you could say that again.”

They stayed like that until it started to get uncomfortable. She could feel the sharp edges of his gun holster and his gun pressing against the insides of her thighs. 

“We should go get cleaned up,” she suggested. 

“Yeah, we should.”

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of our system, we should be able to concentrate more on our task at hand.”

“And be able to keep our hands off of each other for a little bit longer.”

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I think we may need to sit on opposite sides of the room if we can’t keep our hands to ourselves.”

He smiled at her, and gave her a tender kiss that made her toes curl.

He helped her down from the table, and with one last long kiss, they both departed from the conference room and moved up to their respective rooms. On her way up to her room, she couldn’t help but relish the butterflies in her belly. She was happy and giddy, and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this way. 

She couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe was going to drop. It always did.


	11. Chapter 11

Spencer threw down the phone in frustration. They still hadn’t found any leads, and it was becoming very frustrating. It had been nearly a week since they had come to New York, and whoever was killing the Muggles had done a really good job at covering their footsteps. 

He had just gotten off the phone with Hotch. They were running out of time before the killer struck again. There was usually about two weeks between kills. Less between the last two. Since the UNSUB had begun making targeted threats to Hermione, they were all on edge. That meant he was either really confident he wouldn’t get caught, or he was becoming unhinged. 

And he didn’t want to tell Hermione, but they were almost confident she was going to be targeted at some point. He had a meeting with the team over at the FBI headquarters the day before, without Hermione, who had her own meeting with her superiors, and they had gone over the profile. With the targeted threat against her at the last crime scene, it was quite obvious to the team, she was the UNSUB’s end game. It was just a matter of how long and how many kills until he got there. 

Considering there was less time between the last two kills and the targeted message, they feared she was next. 

Hermione was intelligent and she probably already knew this was a probability. However, Spencer didn’t want to tell her she was a probable victim. 

He looked over at her as she wrote yet another letter to be sent off to who knew where. The Wizarding World was archaic in that nothing they did was digital. Something about electronics and magic not mixing well, so all her communication with the ministry was done via owl post, which frustrated her due to how slow everything was. She had told him yesterday she envied him and his mobile phones. 

The last week was full of the two of them getting to know one another on a deeper level. They would take breaks from reading and filing reports or following leads and talk about everything. Their childhoods, their hopes for the future.

He had been so nervous to tell her about his mom’s schizophrenia and the possibility he could one day develop it. But she took it in stride. She told him about growing up with Harry Potter, the Chosen One, and altering her parents’ memories near the end of the war to protect them, and not being able to restore them later. They had done a lot of kissing, but they still hadn’t had sex, but his resolve to wait was beginning to wane. 

He was pretty sure he was in love with her. Although it seemed impossible. It took him nearly one hundred days to admit to himself he was in love with Maeve. He had known Hermione for less than seven. 

And here he was again, with the woman he loved targeted by some psychotic asshole, hellbent on killing her. 

He didn’t think he would be able to survive if he lost someone else. 

“You’re staring at me again. What’s wrong?”

He started out of his daze. “Do you think you would ever want to get married again?” The future was never a subject they broached. Only the past.

“I think so. To the right person.”

“Do you want kids?”

“More than anything.”

The silence stretched out between them.

“It’s okay,” she broke the silence. “I know I’m the end game. I’ve known for a while.”

“I figured you would have worked that out. My team has been pushing me to tell you. I kept telling them you would have figured it out a week ago when you saw your name on the wall.”

“Harry wants me to come home where he can protect me.”

“What did you say?”

“That not only can I protect myself, I had you here as back up.”

“I take it he didn’t take it well?”

“Half of these owls have been from the international floo office with letters from him begging me to reconsider.”

“I’m worried about you too.”

“I know,” she gave him a wry smile. “But I honestly can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubt about it. But after Maeve…”

She moved her chair closer to his. They had taken to sitting directly next to one another in the conference center. She put her head on his shoulder. “I’m not taking any unnecessary risks. You know that more than anyone. We rarely leave this hotel. And when we do leave, I’m escorted by you and at least two more of your team. If I hadn’t already figured out I was a target, that would have been the biggest give away.”

He laughed. “We haven’t been the most inconspicuous. We’re not private detectives.”

“No, you absolutely are not. But everything will be fine. I promise. If you’re truly worried, you can move into my room?”

She said it so quietly, if they weren’t right next to each other, he wouldn’t have been able to hear her. His heart sped up at the mere suggestion of sleeping in her room. Even if it was just sleeping, it was a huge step to him. But for the first time in a week, he didn’t find himself hesitant to move forward. He wanted to. He wanted to sleep with her in every meaning of the word. The more he got to know her, the more he was certain he was in love with her. There were no doubts in his mind.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

They stood, and hand in hand they left the room, and went up to his. He threw in the few things he had laying about and then walked to hers. She had made herself at home, and when they weren’t in the conference room, they would often read next to each other in front of the fire before separating and going to bed. 

Even though he had been in her room more than a dozen times, this time felt different. He settled his bag down in the corner, and then removed his holster and set it on the dresser. He looked over at Hermione, who was over lighting the fireplace. The warm glow of the fire illuminated her beauty and he knew. He knew that he loved her. He knew he was ready. He crossed the room and took her in his arms. The kiss was electric. Hands moved everywhere. He felt her tug on his jacket, and he helped her remove it. His sweater vest followed. She began working on the buttons of his shirt, and he did the same on hers. Once he was able to part it, he froze. He had never seen the extent of the damage done to her by Dolohov. He felt his anger burn inside of him. 

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I was caught off guard, I wasn’t expecting to do this the second we walked in, I would have cast a disillusionment charm to hide it—”

“No,” he said. “You don’t need to hide it. I’m just thinking of all the ways I’m going to hurt Dolohov when we catch him.”

He watched her visually relax and he made a mental note that if he ever met her ex-husband to punch him in the face for causing all the mental harm he had inflicted on Hermione during their marriage. 

He closed the space between them, and the rest of their clothes found their way to the floor as the pair made their way to the bed. They settled with him on top of her, nestled between her legs, and the nerves were coming back. It had been so long. So long. But as he looked down into her eyes, he knew this was right. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m just saying this because of what we’re about to do, but I think I’m in love with you,” he whispered. 

“I think I’m in love with you, too.”

He joined them, and they moved in unison, performing an act that humans had been performing for thousands of years, yet when it was just the two of them, it felt like they had invented something new. Even though it was their first time together, instinct had them moving in just the right way, making it feel amazing. It didn’t take long for him to feel as if it were all coming to an end, so he reached between them and found the bundle of nerves to help Hermione catch up with him. As he felt her fall apart around him, only then did he allow himself to fall apart. He was pretty sure he saw stars.

He moved off her and immediately pulled her to his side. She sprawled out across his chest, placing kisses there. 

“That was so worth the wait,” she said with a laugh. 

“Completely worth the wait. I actually can’t wait until we can do that again. You know, for science.”

“Of course. For science.”

“I do love you. I think I have for a while. It doesn’t seem probable, but I do. And if I’ve learned anything from my past, it’s that you need to make sure you tell the people you love that you love them before it’s too late.”

“I love you, too.”

“What are—”

“Shh, remember? No talk about the future. Let’s just enjoy the now.”

Spencer felt his eyes growing heavy. He hadn’t been sleeping well, staying up worried about the UNSUB breaking into Hermione’s room at night and murdering her in her sleep. He watched as Hermione summoned her wand and used it to cover them with blankets and to extinguish the lights. And curled up with the woman he loved in the warmth of the fire in the fire place, he drifted off to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Something was wrong. 

That was her first thought when she woke up. 

It was still dark in the room, which meant it was still night. But something felt off. She looked next to her in bed. Spencer was asleep, snoring softly beside her. But she couldn’t seem to relax.

She reached over on the bedside table and pulled out her wand. 

“Illuminate.”

Her wand glowed and she blinked while her eyes adjusted to the change in the room. The fire had gone out, which was her first clue something was wrong. The fire was lit magically, it wouldn’t go out unless someone put it out. 

She slipped from the bed and grabbed the first thing she could find and slipped it on. Spencer’s shirt. And she also grabbed her panties. After dressing hastily, she moved through her room, ready. 

She had known Dolohov or Dolohov Part Two was going to eventually come after her for a while. It was part of the reason she allowed the BAU to keep her close. Back up was always around. 

She looked over at the dresser and breathed a sigh of relief noticing Spencer’s gun belt was still there. Maybe she was being paranoid. The fire could have gone out on its own. Mittens could have done something…

She frowned.

Where was Mittens?

She looked around the room and noticed the door to her room was open, just a crack. Her blood ran cold. She knew for a fact she had closed that door. And put the wards up before she and Spencer…

She looked back in the direction of the fireplace. 

She took a tentative step toward the little seating area she had set up, that she loved sitting and reading with Spencer in the evenings. Where her cat usually slept curled up on the rug…

She moved her wand around in front of the fire, and froze. 

She felt bile move up her throat, and before she could help herself, she began to scream. 

“Hermione?” she heard Spencer from the bed. The sheets rustled around as he sat up. “What’s wrong.”

“He killed Mittens,” she cried, turning to face the bed. “He’s been in the room, and he’s killed her.”

“He’s been in the room? How? I thought you put up wards?” He was out of bed now, and fumbling around he pulled on his boxers and started to make his way over to her.

“I did! I do! I don’t—” Two arms wrapped around her body, dragging her backward. “Spencer!” she screamed.

“Hermione?!”

“Spence—” the familiar feeling of being squeezed through a tube surrounded her. And she was gone.

Spencer stared at the spot his girlfriend had just been a second before. He felt his heart drop to his stomach. He closed his eyes and tried to compose himself enough to think. 

He scrambled for his pants and dialed the first number he could think of. The person who would understand what he was feeling. The one who had comforted him before.

“Reid, what’s wrong?”

“He took her,” he said, not liking how his voice sounded. “He took her.”

“I’m two minutes away. Stay right where you are.”

“Hotch—” his voice broke.

“Spencer. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

He hung up the phone and his knees gave out, and he slid to the floor. 

He was cursed. That had to be it. That was the only explanation why whenever he began to become remotely happy, everything was torn from him.

The door to the room flung open and his team began pouring in. He looked up and made eye contact with Hotch, and he lost it. Sobs wracked his body. Aaron fell to his knees, and pulled him into a tight hug. 

“We’re going to find her.”

“We don’t know that. They have magic. She just disappeared right in front of me. One second she was screaming because he killed her cat, the next he’s taken her.”

“Is there any way we can get in contact with someone from her world? Someone who can help us?”

Spencer pulled back and ran his hands down his face trying to compose himself, and try and remember what he had seen Hermione do while they were together. 

“The fireplace.”

“What about it?”

“She talks to her best friend through the fireplace. He’s head of law enforcement in their world.”

“Great. How do we do that?”

“There’s powder on the mantle. She grabs a handful and throws it in, and shouts his name.”

“Which is?”

“Harry Potter.”

Hotch stood and moved toward the fireplace. He was immediately replaced by Morgan.

“Hey kid, let’s go get you dressed, yeah?”

“She was wearing my shirt.”

“Let’s get you a new one. Let’s take this one step at a time.”

Spencer stood up and walked over to his suitcase. He pulled out a pair of slacks and a shirt and pulled them on quickly. He turned back to the room, and he could see Hotch bent over and talking into the fireplace. JJ was next to him. Kate and Rossi were looking at something on the ground next to the fireplace. It had to be Mittens. 

He felt sick.

“Okay, next step. Tell me what you remember. Starting with last night.”

He closed his eyes. “We were in the conference room, and I just gotten done with my phone call with Hotch telling me you guys were still running into dead ends. Then we talked about how she was a target. She already knew she was the end game. And then she asked me if I wanted to move into her room. So we went to mine and packed my stuff and we came back here. And then…” he trailed off. He figured Morgan could infer what happened next. “I told her that I love her.”

Morgan grinned. “Good for you, kid, and did she say it back?”

“She did.”

“I’m happy for you, you deserve to be happy. I’m glad you found someone who makes you happy.”

“Except now she’s been taken by a crazed serial killer.”

“This time will be different than before, you hear me?”

“You should have seen her scar, Derek. The one he gave her when she was fifteen. If he did that when she was a kid, what’s he going to do now?”

“We’re not going to let it get that far you hear me? She has been missing less than half an hour. We will find her, and we will save her.”

The fireplace roared to life and two men stepped out. The first had dark hair and glasses and the second had red hair. They were dressed in full wizarding robes that he had only seen in the book Hermione had leant him. 

“I’m Harry Potter, and this is Ron Weasley, we’re from the aurors. You said one of you was here when Hermione was taken?”

Spencer raised his hand. “I was.”

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I was sleeping and I heard her scream. She wasn’t in the bed anymore, she was over by the fireplace. The fire was out, which was weird, because she told me magical fires would burn all night. Mittens liked sleeping by the fire. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me, “he killed Mittens.” Then I asked her how it was possible he could get into the room, I watched her put wards up last night, and lock the door. She reassured me she did put up wards, and the she couldn’t complete her thought. She just disappeared right in front of me.”

“Did you see anyone else in the room?”

He shook his head. 

“What were you doing in here in the first place?” the red head asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

“I’m her boyfriend,” he answered matter of factly.

“She sure moved on quickly.”

“Excuse me?”

“Now’s not the time, Ron,” Harry interrupted.

“You’re her ex-husband.”

“I am.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else. He just turned away. Now was not the time to let the asshole know what he thought about him.

“Good news, Hermione must have been holding her wand when she was taken, because it’s not here. Back during first year auror training, they put trackers on all our wands, as a way to keep tabs on us, and make sure we were where we were supposed to be. The three of us being high profile targets chose to keep the trackers on our wands. We’ll activate the tracker, and we’ll be able to apparate to right where she is in seconds.”

“It’s really that easy?” Rossi asked.

“It is.”

“See kid, they’re going to get her back quicker than we could have possibly imagined,” Morgan put his arm around his shoulders. “I told you we would get her back.”

“I want to go with you.”

“I”m sorry, but it’s too dangerous. Trust me. She’s my sister. I’ll bring her back safe.”

“I don’t know why you’re reassuring this bloke. I’m sure he’s just the flavor of the week,” Ron muttered.

Spencer turned, fists clenched, but Morgan stopped him with a hand on his arm. “He’s not worth it.”

He took a breath and turned to look at Harry, not Ron. “Please bring her back safely. I love her, and I don’t know what it will do to me if I were to lose someone else.”

Harry scrutinized him before nodding. He waved his wand, and sent off a silvery mist that shot out of the room, and did some wand movements and said some Latin. “I’ve got her. C’mon.”

Ron stalked over to Harry and grabbed onto his arm, and they disappeared from the room with a crack. 

Everyone stood there staring at where the two men once stood. 

“Now, why didn’t she do that?” Rossi spoke up, gesturing. “They can just disappear at will, and she chose to demonstrate her magic by filling a glass with water?”

Spencer couldn’t help it, but he started laughing. Soon, everyone was joining in. And soon his laughs turned to tears as he began to worry. With Maeve, he was in charge of rescuing her, and everything went pear shaped. Now he had to wait and trust other people to save the woman he loved, and he wasn’t sure which he preferred. 

JJ walked over and wrapped an arm around him on one side, and Morgan pulled him in on the other. He was lucky he had his friends there. He didn’t want to think about what his mental state would be if he had to go through this alone.


	13. Chapter 13

The landing was hard, and Hermione was disoriented. It was dark, but there was a fire lit in the corner of the room. She didn’t know where she was. If she was even still in the states. He could have taken her to Canada, which was the working theory since they couldn’t find any trace of him in the States. Garcia tried. 

He let go of her and she fell to the ground. She thanked every being there was that she had her wand and that she and her friends were paranoid, because now they would be able to find her. However, the only person who knew she was missing was Spencer, and he was a muggle, and she never taught him how to get in contact with anyone from the magical world. It could be nearly 24 hours before anyone from the magical world nows she is missing.

And by then it would be too late. 

She turned on her back and pointed her wand in the general direction of her captor. Before she could shoot off a spell, she felt her wand rip out of her hand and fall to the ground somewhere in the dark. She needed to get to the fire, lure her captor with her so she can get an idea of who has her. 

She crawled backward until she neared the fire, and stopped. She didn’t want to get too close, she didn’t know if he would utilize the fire to harm her. She didn’t really know what his plan was for her. 

A deep laugh echoed through the room as her captor moved toward her. As his face was revealed, she wasn’t surprised. 

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

He shrugged. “A little transfiguration on a corpse could do wonders for your escape plan.”

“You’ve been in hiding for nearly twenty years. Why come out now?”

“Got bored.”

“You were bored, so you decided to just start killing muggles?”

“Yeah, I missed the good old days. Thought maybe I kill and torture some muggles. I had fun, so I do it some more. And then I think, maybe this will bring my old friends out and they can join me.”

“Your old friends are all either dead or in Azkaban.”

“Yes, I soon learned that. Killing muggles still fun though.”

“Rumor has it you did all of this just to get to me.”

“No, it’s bonus. I learn you were doing the investigation and get nostalgic. Time to kill the one who got away. The only one who managed to survive my special curse.”

“They know you have me. They’re going to come and you will get to join your comrades in Azkaban.”

He truly laughed now. “What? That muggle? By the time he finds you, you will be long, long, long dead. And I will have enjoyed every single second of it.”

Hermione’s blood ran cold. She needed to stall him. She scrambled to her feet. She started to make a run for it, but only made it two steps.

“Crucio.”

The curse was said lazily, but it felt just as terrible. She fell to the floor, crying out, as the electric jolts pulsed through her body. He didn’t hold it for long, but also didn’t wait very long before hitting her with it again. Her entire body felt as if it were on fire. Somehow it felt worse than when Bellatrix had subjected her to it in Malfoy Manor. Being nearly twenty years older was probably why.

He let off the curse, and she immediately curled in on herself and began to cry. She was the head of the MLE. And here she was, being tortured by a former Death Eater. And she had finally found someone who loved her for her, and made her feel like anything was possible.

Another round of Crucio hit her and she screamed until her throat felt raw. As soon as the curse was taken off, she felt too weak to fight back. She struggled to keep her eyes open. She felt a heavy weight settle on her legs. She looked up through her tears, and tried to focus on his face. He looked the same as he did when she obliviated him. Wizarding aging was amazing. 

“You have grown up since I last saw you. You are very pretty. It’s a pity that I’m going to kill you.”

“Why don’t you just do it? You avada’d all your previous victims. Just get it over with.”

He laughed. “Oh, no. No simple killing curse for you. I want to enjoy this. You are my white whale. The one who got away.” His hands came to the buttons on her shirt. He grabbed either side and pulled. “You are the only one to survive my curse.” He traced his finger down her scar. She tried to lift her hands to push him away, but they felt like lead weights and wouldn’t leave the ground. “Yes, do you know what it does to me to know that I have marked you? That you carry this reminder of me around on your tight little body?” She had an idea. She could feel it growing against her leg. 

Tears flowed down her cheek as it began to dawn on her that she was about to get the full Death Eater treatment. She tried to kick and buck him off, but all the rounds of Crucio weakened her.

He laughed again, while continuing to run his finger down her chest. “Fight all you want. It will not help. I like it when they fight back.” He ground his erection into her, laughing louder. 

She screamed. And kicked and tried to hit. She did everything. And still he laughed, running his finger up and down her scar. 

And then, the sound of multiple apparitions echoed through the room. 

They had found her.

Spencer had figured out how to contact Harry, and they had found her. 

She started crying in relief. “Fuck you.” Her voice was hoarse. 

Dolohov actually looked confused just before he was it with a stunner and fell to the side, his body still resting on her legs. Not that she would have been able to move anyway. She felt the weight lift off of her legs and then she saw Harry. 

“We’re going to get you out of here,” he said, lifting her up.

She smiled at him, before succumbing to her injuries and everything went black.


	14. Chapter 14

He hadn’t left her room. He didn’t want to go too far, he didn’t have a tracker, and he wanted Harry to find him as soon as possible. Most of the team left, the room was too small for all of them. JJ, Kate and Rossi were in the conference room packing up all the books and files they had left in there. The case was closed. When this was all over, they would have their UNSUB. No need to keep researching. Morgan and Hotch were still in the room with him. Probably to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. 

“Spence, there’s a chess set over here. Do you want to play a game to keep your mind busy?” Hotch asked.

He shook his head and just kept pacing. He couldn’t sit down. If he sat by the fire, he would think about poor Mittens. He already loved that cat. And he wasn’t particularly fond of animals. If he sat on the bed, he would think about Hermione. It was safer if he just kept moving. He couldn’t fall apart if he was moving.

“She’s going to be okay,” Morgan repeated.

“You can’t know that.”

“He is going to want to draw things out with her. You know this, Spence. We’ve profiled men like him a hundred times. And maybe twenty minutes had passed between her being taken and the wizard police rushing out to save her. There’s no way he would have taken her and then killed her immediately.”

Spencer just nodded. He knew all of this, logically. And if this were a regular run of the mill Muggle killer, he would feel reassured. However, they were talking about a wizard who could kill with the point of a wand. Who awas to say he didn’t just kill Hermione as soon as the other wizards came to rescue her?

There was a large pop and Harry was back in the room. 

“You need to come with me,” he said gesturing at Spencer.

“Is she—”

“She’s alive, but he used one of the torture curses on her multiple times. She’s in hospital, she’s unconscious, and I really think you being the first thing she sees when she wakes up will be really good for her healing process.”

“Which hospital, we’ll drive him there,” Hotch said moving forward. 

“She’s in the local Wizarding Hospital, so unfortunately I can’t bring all of you in. I can bring him because he’s in a relationship with her, and that doesn’t break the statute of secrecy.”

“Fair enough. We’ll go finish up what we need to at headquarters and head back home. Please keep us posted on how she is.”

Spencer nodded and turned to Harry. “How will we get there?”

“We’ll apparate in. Which is like teleporting. I’ll need to hold onto you, and it may help to hold onto me. It will feel like you’re being squeezed through a really small tube, and you will more than likely be sick on the other end. Are you ready?”

“No, but I want to see Hermione, so let’s get this over with.”

Harry grabbed him on the upper arm, and he reached out and grabbed onto his forearm. And then everything spun, and he felt compacted. His feet landed on solid ground, and then he was sick.

“Follow me,” Harry said, opening the door to the small room they were in and moving down the corridor. Spencer swallowed and felt his stomach settling down and he followed Harry out. They moved to the third door on the left, and went inside. 

There she was. Lying on the bed, her hair lying limp on the pillow under her head. She looked as if she was just sleeping, not as if she had been tortured. 

“The curse he used was like she had been electrocuted,” Harry explained. “It sends jolts of electricity through all of her nerves. We won’t fully know the extent of her injuries until she wakes up. HOwever, she did talk to me when I found her, so that’s a good sign that he didn’t torture her so much that she lost her mind.”

Spencer ran his hands down his face. Tortured until she lost her mind? That was possible? As someone who valued his mind, he couldn’t even imagine not having it anymore. “When will she wake up?”

“We don’t know. We just know that she will wake. If you don’t want to stay—”

“I want to stay.”

“I figured you would. I’m listed as her next of kin, but I added you to the approved list, and they should be able to tell you anything that pops up. I need to go home and check in with my wife and my boss, I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

Spencer just nodded. Not taking his eyes off of Hermione.

Soon, he was alone. He pulled a chair next to Hermione, and pulled a book out of his messenger bag. It was one of his favorites, Great Expectations, and he began to read aloud. 

His voice grew hoarse and his eyes grew heavy, so he set aside the book and looked at Hermione. 

“Please wake up,” he whispered. “I know we’ve only been together for a week, but it’s been the best week I’ve had in a long, long time. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, like I promised. But like you said, I’m no match for wizards. And I know we said we wouldn’t talk about the future, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes for us to be together. Just please, please wake up.”

Hermione continued to lay on the bed completely still. Magical hospitals appeared to be eerily quiet compared to Muggle, and it was a little disorienting not hear any beeps of machinery. 

Reality of the hour began to catch up with him, as he realized it was still the middle of the night. He moved the chair closer to the bed and took her hand in his. He laid his head down on the bed next to her arm and closed his eyes. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

Everything hurt. 

And her brain felt muddled. 

She could hear voices, but they were faint, and it sounded like she was in a tunnel. It sounded like there were multiple voices, but she couldn’t figure out who the voices belonged to. 

And then the voices faded away and everything went dark again. 

The next time she was aware of the world, everything still hurt, but the sounds were a lot clearer. She could hear someone breathing near her. 

And then a jolt went through her body, and she wanted to cry out, but nothing was coming out. She jolted again and again. Her body felt like it was on fire. 

“Help! Someone! She’s seizing!”

Spencer. Spencer was here. 

She wanted to tell him she was sorry for scaring him. That she didn’t mean to get caught, she was caught completely off guard, which was out of character for her. But her voice didn’t work, and she couldn’t open her eyes, and apparently she was seizing.

Cruciatus. This was the after effects of it. She must be in the hospital. 

Footsteps came pounding into the room, and there were more voices, and then she could feel her body relax. And she felt her hand engulfed by two more hands.

Spencer.

And then she slipped blissfully back into the oblivion.

Bright. Everything was too bright. 

She was awake.

She closed her eyes again, trying to will them to adjust to the new scenery. 

She reopened them, and breathed out a sigh of relief. She could see, and she felt like her mind was intact. Luckily Dolohov didn’t keep her under the curse for very long, but this was the second time she had been subjected to the curse. She feared turning into the Longbottoms.

She turned her head slowly, and she smiled at the sight. Sleeping in the chair with his feet propped up on a second chair was Spencer. She was so happy to see him there. She didn’t know how long she had been out, but the fact that he was there when she woke up spoke volumes. 

“Spence,” she croaked out. It was barely a whisper. But he must not have been fully asleep, because he started awake.

“Hermione?”

She smiled weakly. “Hey.”

He scrambled up and moved his chair directly next to her bed. He brought a hand up and cupped her cheek. “Oh my god. You’re awake. I was beginning to think…” he trailed off, his voice breaking. 

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. The longest three days I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. The doctors told me it was normal after what you had gone through, but still. Oh my god, I need to go get a doctor.”

“Wait,” she said, holding onto his sleeve. “Don’t go yet.”

He settled back down next to her, and she finally got a good look at him. His hair was frizzy and was practically exploding from his head. He looked like he hadn’t slept well in days, and he was sporting the beginnings of a beard.

“Have you left at all? When was the last time you showered?”

“I’ve left a couple times. I needed to go help Harry pack our things from the hotel, so they let Morgan sit in here with you. And yesterday they dragged me out of here to take a shower because apparently I was starting to smell, and Harry sat with you while I took care of that. The team has gone back to DC, but I’m using some of my leave to stay here with you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for? I have plenty of leave saved up, and I want to be here with you. I would just worry if I were back home.”

“Not that. I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry that I got caught.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“It was. I wasn’t diligent. I knew something was wrong and I went and investigated it by myself—”

“Because you are a capable woman, who can take care of herself. There’s no reason why you couldn’t go and investigate your own hotel room.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts. I’m the one who should apologize. I promised I would protect you. And I couldn’t. You were taken right in front of me, and I couldn’t do anything. I was completely helpless.”

“You definitely don’t need to apologize. If you had tried to help, he would have killed you. Full stop.”

“Can we just agree that neither of us have anything to apologize for? We were both caught off guard.”

“That can be amenable.”

His eyes softened. “How are you feeling, really?”

“Like everything hurts.”

“The doctors said that is normal.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling. I’ve been under the curse before.”

“That’s what Harry said. Back during the war. Some bitch tortured you and kept you under longer. You’re like a cat. You have nine lives.”

She started laughing. 

“What’s so funny.”

“Remind me to tell you the story of second year and a mishap with polyjuice potion.”

“I have so many questions. The first of which is what is polyjuice potion, and the second why hasn’t Harry told me this story yet?”

“Have you and Harry been spending a lot of time together lately?”

“He’s tried to be here for a few hours every day. To give me a chance to use the restroom or freshen up or stretch my legs. Mostly to keep me company. He had to talk me down the other day when your ex-husband came to see you.”

“Ron was here?”

“He was.”

“Was he a total ass?”

“Not a total ass, but he tried to have me removed and my memories altered.”

“What?!”

“Apparently, it’s against the statute of secrecy that you told me about the world, and it was for your own good if I weren’t here when you woke up.”

“He didn’t!”

“He did. Harry had to drag him out of here. But not before I profiled him.”

“You didn’t!” 

“I did. And let me tell you, he didn’t like being told he had narcissistic tendencies that were only dwarfed by his hero worship of his best friend. And that he must be compensating for something if he was feeling inferior to his very successful spouse.”

“Spencer!”

“And then I may have punched him? I don’t know. It’s all sort of blurry, I haven’t slept a lot in the last three days.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Harry said something about showing you the memory? So I guess you should ask him to see that. Maybe you can tell me if I actually punched him, or if I dreamed it.”

She laughed. “You need to go home and get some rest.”

“Home is so far away from here, and I don’t want to leave you.”

“It won’t be for long. Magic is amazing. I bet I’ll be released today or tomorrow, and then I can come see you before I go home.”

Silence fell between them.

“Your home is so far away from my home.”

“I know.”

“Maybe I can put in a transfer request, I’m sure Prentiss can put in a good word and I can come work for her.”

“Please don’t put in a transfer request in just yet, okay?”

“Why not?”

“Because, I may be getting disciplined for how many people we let into the secret of our world, and when I refuse to obliviate the lot of you, I may be losing my position at work. So don’t put in a transfer. Not yet.”

“You could really lose your job because I clued the team in?”

“I could.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

“It’s okay. I’m not upset about it.”

“You were going to be the youngest Minister for Magic in history. You shouldn’t have to give that up because of me.”

“I didn’t give it up because of you. I gave it up to catch a bloody Death Eater, who should have been dead. But the Wizengamot won’t see it that way. They see things in black and white. I violated the rules, and I will be duly punished for it.”

“That’s a load of bull shit.”

“It is what it is.”

“Well, if you lose your job, you should move here, and I think Hotch will have a place for you at Quantico.”

She shook her head. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, really, I think you would be a great fit.”

“You don’t want me working with you.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No you don’t. Your job is so dangerous. You would be worried about me all the time. And that would take your mind off of what you’re doing and put your life in danger.”

“If you don’t want to work for the BAU, what will you do if you lose your job?”

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when I get there. Right now, can we just enjoy the fact that I’m alive, and that we have a future together?”

“Yes, I can definitely do that.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Spencer leaned forward and pressed a kiss gently on her lips. He pulled back and smiled at her. 

“You know, if you move here, we’re going to need to get a bigger place.”

“Spencer, I know we both want kids, but I’m sure it’ll be a while—”

“No, not for that. For all the books we have.”

And Hermione laughed. She laughed so hard that her ribs began to ache. And what a wonderful feeling that was.


	16. Chapter 16

“Reid, my man, your girlfriend is magic, couldn’t she have waved her wand and done all of this so we wouldn’t have to?” Morgan complained as he stacked more books into boxes. 

“She could, but since she has to coordinate a transatlantic move, I didn’t want her to have to try and do my move as well.”

Morgan laughed, shaking his head. “You’re quite the catch, kid. Very considerate of you to not take advantage of her magic powers.”

“I guess I just don’t see her magic as a resource for my use. If she wants to use it to help out around the house, and it benefits the both of us, that’s just icing on the cake.”

“I can’t believe you’re moving out of this place. I don’t remember you living anywhere else.”

He shrugged. “Between the two of us, we have too many books for this one bedroom, and it just makes sense to buy a house.”

“I also can’t believe you’re getting married!”

“I know. We’re moving quickly—”

“It’s not that. You two have been together for nearly six months. It makes sense that you’re moving to the next step. It’s just not something I expected for you, not after…”

“After Maeve.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t either. I thought everyone got one person. And when that one person was gone, that was it. But meeting Hermione really changed my perspective, and showed me that I didn’t need to spend my life alone and in mourning.”

“I’m really proud of you, Spence. And I’m really happy for you. I like Hermione a lot. And we’re not saying that just because she allowed us to keep our memories in tact.”

“It cost her a lot to do that.”

“We know. And we will forever be in debt. Are the trials all done? Is that why the move is finally moving forward?”

“Yeah, they wrapped up last week. Stripped her of all of her security clearances and demoted her to the lowest level of auror. She replied with her formal resignation.”

“After everything she’s done for their world, that’s how they repay her?”

“Yep. Since she’s a woman and a muggleborn, they decided to make an example of her.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Funny, that’s what I said.”

“I read that book she gave us all, Hogwarts a History and her world is so backward and out of date. I don’t know how someone like her could stay there for as long as she did.”

Spencer shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve asked her the same question. She mentioned that after the war, the magical world was the only place she felt like she had a home. She lost her parents. And she was with Ron. But now, she doesn’t feel like the magical world is her home anymore. She still has Harry, but that’s about it.”

“She’s really going to move here and live like a muggle?”

“She is. She has an interview with a local law office as a paralegal, actually.”

“Good for her.”

They packed up the rest of the books and Spencer looked around the room. He had lived in this apartment since he moved to DC and started working for the BAU. Over ten years. He sighed. It was a little bittersweet moving out of the apartment, but he felt good about his decision. They were moving out near where Hotch lived. He said the schools were good. 

He smiled to himself. He knew the future wasn’t guaranteed. Hell, if anyone knew that, it was him. But it was nice to have something to look forward to for once.

He stepped out of the moving truck that Morgan was driving. They were at his townhouse and were waiting for Hermione to show up. 

The door to the house opened and his fiancee came bounding out, with a wide smile on her face. She flung herself into his arms and he caught her, bringing her into a hug. 

“You’re early.”

“I may have fibbed just a little bit about what time I was getting in so I could surprise you.”

“Surprise me with what?”

“With this.”

She pulled out her wand and waved it at the moving truck and he watched as all the boxes he painstakingly packed and loaded went flying into the house.

“I thought you said we couldn’t use magic here because we live in a Muggle neighborhood?”

She shrugged. “I may have cast some notice me not charms around the house just for this one occasion.”

“Girl, where were you this morning when he forced me into pack all this stuff and load it into the truck.”

Hermione moved to give Morgan a hug. “I’m sorry, Derek. Spencer told me he didn’t want me to use my magic, so I let him do it his way. He doesn’t want to take advantage of me. I did offer.”

“Kid, you need to get over this and let her do her thing.”

“I think I’ll get used to it one day.” He moved back to the truck. “I actually have a surprise for you, too.” He pulled out a cat carrier with an orange tabby cat in it. “It’s a rescue, so he already came with a name, and I kind of love it, but we can change it if you don’t like it.”

Hermione brought her hands to her mouth to muffle her shriek. “Spencer,” she said removing her hands, “I thought you didn’t like cats?”

“I didn’t. But then those nights in your hotel room with Mittens…well I think I grew fond of having something to pet while I read.”

“What’s his name?”

“Luke Skywhisker.”

“I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Should we go in and try to arrange our books?”

“I’m gonna let you two bookworms take care of that, and I’m gonna return this truck and go home. See you tomorrow at work, Spence.”

“Thank you, Derek.”

“No problem, kid.”

Derek left, and then it was just the two of them. Well, three if you counted the cat.

Hermione took the cat carrier from him and walked into the building. He paused for a minute and smiled to himself. Half a year ago, he was just going through the motions of life. Depressed that a case took away any hope for his future. Funny, how it was a case, nearly two years to the day, that would turn his life around. Bring back in the sun. 

He closed his eyes and sent a little prayer to Maeve, wherever she was. He wanted to make sure she knew he was okay. And that he was living. The guilt he once felt was no longer there. Replaced with hope, happiness, and most of all, love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I hope you enjoyed the story! Thank you all for the reviews. I'm sorry I didn't respond to any of htem, just posting this story was a feat, thanks to my toddler. I don't know what my fanfiction writing/posting will look like this year. Right now my agent and I are prepping my novel to be queried. Once my novel is out of my hands, I might write another Reid/Granger story, who knows! Thank you again for giving your time to this story.


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